


A New Threat: The Mystery of the Second Detective

by JBCubbs (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, BBC Sherlock - Freeform, John Watson - Freeform, M/M, OMC - Freeform, Post Reichenbach, Season 2 spoilers, Sherlock - Freeform, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-03-13
Updated: 2012-03-13
Packaged: 2017-11-01 21:33:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/361495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/JBCubbs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toby Williams. The name of the world's second Consulting Detective. A lot has changed during Sherlock's three year absence. Now this new detective...Just as good if not better than Sherlock. Will he outwit and outdo the brilliant Sherlock Holmes. Will he gain John's friendship? Or possibly...his affection. Will Sherlock and John's friendship fall apart? </p><p>Sebastian Moran, Moriarty's right hand man has taken up his boss's operations and has started gaining a criminal following. With the murder of a Dignitary now emerging. What could Moran be up to?</p><p>But the biggest mystery to Sherlock...who is Toby Williams?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Threat: The Mystery of the Second Detective

_ **Prologue** _

It has been a year since Sherlock returned to 221b and to John. Things were back to the way it had been before, and both were grateful. However, during the three years of loneliness, John had come to admit to himself that he harbored feelings for his brilliant friend. When Sherlock came back, John figured it best to bury and compartmentalize these feelings for the sake of the friendship. Whether or not he would ever be okay with this was a completely different thing entirely. He seemed to be good at this, seeing as Sherlock never actually caught on. While they both pondered that their  friendship was the only thing needing attention, they would be proved wrong. Proved wrong by a stranger by the name of Toby Williams...

 

**Chapter One: The Stranger**

****

It was mid-evening on a warm Wednesday when DI Lestrade contacted Sherlock for a new case. Apparently the three years Sherlock spent hunting down Moriarty’s web, he had missed one pivotal piece. Moriarty’s right hand man, Sebastian Moran had apparently took over for his lost master by building up another following. When Lestrade called us, he told us that an unnamed “dignitary” had been assassinated, carrying the hallmark of Moran’s work. When me and Sherlock arrived on the scene, it wasn’t just Lestrade’s division on sight. It seemed that there was also Secret Service agents present...”most unsettling”, I thought to myself. They watched coldly as Sherlock and I entered the scene, and two of them approached us. “Who are you with? What division do you belong to?”, they pressed firmly. When Lestrade saw this encounter he rushed over quite nervously. “Who are these men, Detective Inspector? No unauthorized personnel, on scene. Strict orders from above...”, they pressed strictly. Sherlock was unfazed by their cold and bitter attitudes. “This is Sherlock Holmes. Younger brother of Mycroft Holmes. We...consult him on cases such as these”, Lestrade assured them. Sherlock just rolled his eyes, finding this sort of protocol boring and dull. One of the agent pulled out a mobile and called an anonymous person. “Yes, sir...We have a Sherlock Holmes and a...” he paused looking to me. “Oh..uh Dr. John Watson”, I told the  tall pale man. “And a Dr. John Watson on scene. Shall they be permitted?”, the agent asked the unknown voice. Before he answered, the man handed the phone to Sherlock. Again, he rolled his eyes; this was a waste of precious minute to him. “Sherlock Holmes...” he answered firmly. “Very well, Mycroft” Sherlock answered, handing the phone back to the agent. 

 

“No contamination. Period. Do you understand Mister Holmes?” the shorter agent shot. Sherlock didn’t respond and just walked through. We came to face the body in the street. A small stream of blood ran from the man’s head. He looked very important. Yet it was odd that the body was just here, nothing on it. Sherlock pulled out his small magnifying glass to inspect closer. One of the things that had changed since Sherlock’s return was that, on cases...I mostly stood there until I was needed. I hated it. I wanted to be needed by him again. Just one more of those things that we had to work on fixing. But, I could tell it made us both uncomfortable. I started drifting off when suddenly, “Right!!! So can anyone tell me anything?” Sherlock said looking quizzical. “Nobody sees anything out fo the ordinary here?” he says condescendingly. Before anyone could speak, another voice shoots out from seemingly nowhere. “Mid forties, definitely someone important. Very important actually.” the voice shouts. We all hear this, but there is no body to go with it. I can tell, it’s a rather attractive sounding voice. Just like Sherlock’s actually, I notice. Lestrade clears his throat as the owner of the voice steps out a squad car. The man before us, a bit shorter than Sherlock but same build. Short brown hair and dark eyes. His voice about an octave higher than Sherlock’s, definitely an attention grabber. The man continues, “You can tell. Everything the man is wearing, not only is it more than any one of us could ever afford. But also, he didn’t buy any of it. It’s a provided wardrobe. Shall I continue, Detective Inspector?” the man states. “Sherlock, John...this is Toby Williams” Lestrade tell us. The man stands there looking smug and impressed, just like Sherlock. This stranger Toby walks towards us and chooses to address Sherlock first. “Ahh, the great Sherlock Holmes. I follow your work religiously...” he tell Sherlock. “Great...another...fan.” Sherlock is disgusted. “Oh...no. Forgive me Mister Holmes but, I am no fan of yours...” the man says looking equally as disgusted at the notion. “Mister Holmes...” Toby starts. “Sherlock...”, Sherlock interrupts, letting the man know, that the “mister” is not necessary. “Right...Sherlock. You may have invented the job of Consulting detective. But, I have perfected the practice. You, are merely...obsolete...” toby says with an amused chuckle. I turn to Sherlock to see that he looking venomous at this pompous man. They shake hands more stiffly than a bobby. 

 

The man then turns to me. He looks more softly than me, more...gently. “And you are...” he asked looking quite friendly. “Me..I..uh...Dr. John Watson”, I say and add, “Pleasure to meet you, Mister Williams.”. “Oh...please, call me Toby. Mister, makes me seem old.” he jokes and laughs. He extends his hand to me, and while I was expecting another firm stiff shake; that was not what I received. The man took my hand and shook my hand so gently that I could have taken the hand of a princess. Sherlock looks annoyed at us, yet I can feel his deducing at the same time. “Well if the pleasantries are over, shall we continue...” he says turning towards the crime seen. Sherlock walks over to Lestrade, “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Sherlock asks viscously. Lestrade whispers to him, “Well in the three years you were “dead” we had to find someone else to consult with. And then he came along. He’s...quite good.”. “Then you do not need me or John here”, Sherlock shoots back. Sherlock starts walking away when Agent Donovan calls, “What’s the matter freak? Can’t handle a bit of competition?”. I simply closed my eye and desperately wished that she hadn’t just said that. Sherlock, without words; turns and observes from the sidelines. “Quite obviously a roof shot, given the angle of the entry wound. This kind of wound, definitely high powered sniper rifle. Military issue for sure. Death was instant...” Toby continued. “Very convenient location, yet not a sensible one. If one wishes to acquire attention for an assassination, one usually chooses public execution. Meaning that this man was lead here from original destination. Which further means that this style of killing was not meant to gain attention, but rather confusion among high officials. Technically this classifies as a disappearance at the moment. Correct, Detective Inspector?”, he asks Lestrade. “That is correct, Mister Williams.” Lestrade confirms. Sherlock looks on impressed at his...counterpart. As for me, I haven’t anyone deduce this quickly. “Stop it”, Sherlock shoots at me. “What? What am I doing?” I ask confused. “Stop looking amazed” he tells me, looking hurt. 

 

“Well then thats how it will stay, Detective Inspector. Take the Ambassador’s body to a morgue and release no details.” Toby instructs. I looked to Sherlock, who was actually looking a sort of impressed yet confused. Toby turns to us and winks. “What wrong Sherlock?”, I ask touching his arm. He looks at my contact then asks me, “How...did he know who the man was?”. “Just a...lucky guess?”, I offer. “There are no guesses in this profession John.” Sherlock says pointedly. This man Toby again walks over to us as the agents and constables take their instructions. “You’re wondering how I figured out the man’s identity, given he had none on him?” he asks condescendingly. “Perhaps...”, Sherlock mumbles. Toby just chuckles and turns towards me. “Dr. Watson, it was a pleasure meeting you.” he tells me softly, again shaking my hand delicately. “Mister Holmes...evening”, he offers Sherlock without the same politeness as before. Sherlock stands there pursing his lips as the strange man enters a car and drives off. Lestrade comes over to confront us again. “Sherlock, whats the harm in having two of the most brilliant minds on this? I mean...it’s Moran. We need all the help we can get. “Very well. But I would prefer to never have to see that man again.” Sherlock says darkly. “Well you might just have to play nice this time.” Lestrade counters. Sherlock giggles and turns, walking to the main road. He signals me to join him, and of course I do. 

 

We finally return to the flat, and Sherlock says nothing further. He just picks up his violin and starts playing his “I’m annoyed and angry” melody. I sit in my usual chair, unsure if I should engage at all. “So, this Toby Williams. A second Consulting Detective.” I muse out loud. Sherlock stops playing instantly. “We’re not talking about it...” he says coldly to me. “Okay...”, I mumble. He turns to me, and looks visibly upset. “However, maybe we should talk about...that fact that you’re smitten with him”, Sherlock accuses as he sits across from me. “Wait...what?”, I shoot back. “Well lets go over the facts.” he starts. “He was visibly more polite with you. Very...friendly in fact.” he continues. “The handshake. Ours was stiff and slightly painful. Yet I noticed he shook yours very...delicately. Like he was vying for your...” he stops. “Let’s talk about your reaction John. Your smile. The smile you give when generally pleased. Your neck...your pulse was actually seeable through your skin. It doubled in rate. Your eyes, not a full dilation, but wider than normal.” he concludes and stares at me. He steeples his hands beneath his chin waiting for me to respond. “What...what are you implying?”, I ask feeling vulnerable. “You haven’t that kind of reaction towards me for some time. Yet this...stranger comes along, and you’re infatuated.”, Sherlock states sounding angry and yet hurt. “Are you trying to say that I like him more than you? Isn’t that a bit grade school Sherlock?”, I offer my reasoning. He averts his eyes from me to the lit fireplace. “Maybe you should go live with him, and help him solve cases, John.” he scoffs. “It’s increasingly obvious that you haven’t forgiven me for my actions four years ago. Even though I’ve apologized in every way I can think of. You’re unhappy with out friendship as it stands. Also, as I can see; there is over fifty percent chance you have thought or planned leaving me for good.” he says calmly, refusing to look at me. I have no words, I am silent at these accurate deductions. “So why don’t we rip the band-aid as they say. Just leave John, go be happy elsewhere. I know you’re not here. I’ve lost...you.” he said sounding pathetic as he gets up to continue playing. “I’ve stayed, Sherlock.” I say, but he doesn’t respond. 

“I’ve stayed, because I believe we can fix the damage. Yes, I’m a sentimental idiot”, I point out. He turns dangerously. “If it were fixable, I would think that a year later, there would substantial differences, John. No, you still harbor a deep hatred for me. A hatred that you yourself are afraid of.” He tell me and I’m afraid at his accuracy. “Just leave, John. I lived before you. I’ll live after you, albeit worse off. But there are ways of dealing with that...”, He hints at a new cocaine indulgence. That hint sends me off in a rage I have not known for quite some time. “You know what, Sherlock...fine!!! I’ll fucking leave. And you can rot here all alone...shooting up and killing yourself slowly”, I scream as I storm out of the flat. “John...I’m sorry.”, Sherlock says to himself as he watches John practically sprint down the street out of sight. Sherlock is glad no one is here. No one needs to see his rare tears. He takes the mirror over the fireplace off the wall. A small wall safe is revealed. He enters the combination and pulls the small door open. He pulls out a small wood and ivory box, with its own combination. He looks down at the open box and stares at a black bottle, a tiny baggie, and a syringe. “Can I resist you this time?”, He asks his materials. Mean while John now walking, doesn’t know where he should go. They’ve never fought like this, ever. Nor has Sherlock ever asked to leave in such a manner. “Could this be it? Are we just too broken?”, he asks himself, ducking into an alley. He sits in the narrow dark alleyway. He figures it’s a good place for him to let loose and sob. About five minutes later and white car with black windows pulls up and stops on front of the alley. Nothing happens, no one gets out or calls to him. John stands up and walks to the car. The back window rolls down and John leans down to look in, but its dark inside. “Ahh...Dr. John Watson. Fancy seeing you here.”, Toby Williams announces. “Having a fun evening are we? Or do you always cry in dark alleyways at night?” toby teases John. “Piss off!!!” John says venomously. John starts to walk off quickly. The car turns around and follows John. The other back window rolls down, revealing the man himself. He seems preoccupied with a mobile, but continues, “I didn’t come here to tease you Dr. Watson.”. “Please...call me John.” John offers, astounded at what he’s doing. Toby smiles and asks, “Fancy a drink...Doctor?”. John sighs with relief as he agrees, “Oh...God...Yes”. John climbs in the opposite side and the car drives off to an unknown destination.

“No contamination. Period. Do you understand Mister Holmes?” the shorter agent shot. Sherlock didn’t respond and just walked through. We came to face the body in the street. A small stream of blood ran from the man’s head. He looked very important. Yet it was odd that the body was just here, nothing on it. Sherlock pulled out his small magnifying glass to inspect closer. One of the things that had changed since Sherlock’s return was that, on cases...I mostly stood there until I was needed. I hated it. I wanted to be needed by him again. Just one more of those things that we had to work on fixing. But, I could tell it made us both uncomfortable. I started drifting off when suddenly, “Right!!! So can anyone tell me anything?” Sherlock said looking quizzical. “Nobody sees anything out fo the ordinary here?” he says condescendingly. Before anyone could speak, another voice shoots out from seemingly nowhere. “Mid forties, definitely someone important. Very important actually.” the voice shouts. We all hear this, but there is no body to go with it. I can tell, it’s a rather attractive sounding voice. Just like Sherlock’s actually, I notice. Lestrade clears his throat as the owner of the voice steps out a squad car. The man before us, a bit shorter than Sherlock but same build. Short brown hair and dark eyes. His voice about an octave higher than Sherlock’s, definitely an attention grabber. The man continues, “You can tell. Everything the man is wearing, not only is it more than any one of us could ever afford. But also, he didn’t buy any of it. It’s a provided wardrobe. Shall I continue, Detective Inspector?” the man states. “Sherlock, John...this is Toby Williams” Lestrade tell us. The man stands there looking smug and impressed, just like Sherlock. This stranger Toby walks towards us and chooses to address Sherlock first. “Ahh, the great Sherlock Holmes. I follow your work religiously...” he tell Sherlock. “Great...another...fan.” Sherlock is disgusted. “Oh...no. Forgive me Mister Holmes but, I am no fan of yours...” the man says looking equally as disgusted at the notion. “Mister Holmes...” Toby starts. “Sherlock...”, Sherlock interrupts, letting the man know, that the “mister” is not necessary. “Right...Sherlock. You may have invented the job of Consulting detective. But, I have perfected the practice. You, are merely...obsolete...” toby says with an amused chuckle. I turn to Sherlock to see that he looking venomous at this pompous man. They shake hands more stiffly than a bobby. 

The man then turns to me. He looks more softly than me, more...gently. “And you are...” he asked looking quite friendly. “Me..I..uh...Dr. John Watson”, I say and add, “Pleasure to meet you, Mister Williams.”. “Oh...please, call me Toby. Mister, makes me seem old.” he jokes and laughs. He extends his hand to me, and while I was expecting another firm stiff shake; that was not what I received. The man took my hand and shook my hand so gently that I could have taken the hand of a princess. Sherlock looks annoyed at us, yet I can feel his deducing at the same time. “Well if the pleasantries are over, shall we continue...” he says turning towards the crime seen. Sherlock walks over to Lestrade, “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Sherlock asks viscously. Lestrade whispers to him, “Well in the three years you were “dead” we had to find someone else to consult with. And then he came along. He’s...quite good.”. “Then you do not need me or John here”, Sherlock shoots back. Sherlock starts walking away when Agent Donovan calls, “What’s the matter freak? Can’t handle a bit of competition?”. I simply closed my eye and desperately wished that she hadn’t just said that. Sherlock, without words; turns and observes from the sidelines. “Quite obviously a roof shot, given the angle of the entry wound. This kind of wound, definitely high powered sniper rifle. Military issue for sure. Death was instant...” Toby continued. “Very convenient location, yet not a sensible one. If one wishes to acquire attention for an assassination, one usually chooses public execution. Meaning that this man was lead here from original destination. Which further means that this style of killing was not meant to gain attention, but rather confusion among high officials. Technically this classifies as a disappearance at the moment. Correct, Detective Inspector?”, he asks Lestrade. “That is correct, Mister Williams.” Lestrade confirms. Sherlock looks on impressed at his...counterpart. As for me, I haven’t anyone deduce this quickly. “Stop it”, Sherlock shoots at me. “What? What am I doing?” I ask confused. “Stop looking amazed” he tells me, looking hurt. 

“Well then thats how it will stay, Detective Inspector. Take the Ambassador’s body to a morgue and release no details.” Toby instructs. I looked to Sherlock, who was actually looking a sort of impressed yet confused. Toby turns to us and winks. “What wrong Sherlock?”, I ask touching his arm. He looks at my contact then asks me, “How...did he know who the man was?”. “Just a...lucky guess?”, I offer. “There are no guesses in this profession John.” Sherlock says pointedly. This man Toby again walks over to us as the agents and constables take their instructions. “You’re wondering how I figured out the man’s identity, given he had none on him?” he asks condescendingly. “Perhaps...”, Sherlock mumbles. Toby just chuckles and turns towards me. “Dr. Watson, it was a pleasure meeting you.” he tells me softly, again shaking my hand delicately. “Mister Holmes...evening”, he offers Sherlock without the same politeness as before. Sherlock stands there pursing his lips as the strange man enters a car and drives off. Lestrade comes over to confront us again. “Sherlock, whats the harm in having two of the most brilliant minds on this? I mean...it’s Moran. We need all the help we can get. “Very well. But I would prefer to never have to see that man again.” Sherlock says darkly. “Well you might just have to play nice this time.” Lestrade counters. Sherlock giggles and turns, walking to the main road. He signals me to join him, and of course I do. 

We finally return to the flat, and Sherlock says nothing further. He just picks up his violin and starts playing his “I’m annoyed and angry” melody. I sit in my usual chair, unsure if I should engage at all. “So, this Toby Williams. A second Consulting Detective.” I muse out loud. Sherlock stops playing instantly. “We’re not talking about it...” he says coldly to me. “Okay...”, I mumble. He turns to me, and looks visibly upset. “However, maybe we should talk about...that fact that you’re smitten with him”, Sherlock accuses as he sits across from me. “Wait...what?”, I shoot back. “Well lets go over the facts.” he starts. “He was visibly more polite with you. Very...friendly in fact.” he continues. “The handshake. Ours was stiff and slightly painful. Yet I noticed he shook yours very...delicately. Like he was vying for your...” he stops. “Let’s talk about your reaction John. Your smile. The smile you give when generally pleased. Your neck...your pulse was actually seeable through your skin. It doubled in rate. Your eyes, not a full dilation, but wider than normal.” he concludes and stares at me. He steeples his hands beneath his chin waiting for me to respond. “What...what are you implying?”, I ask feeling vulnerable. “You haven’t that kind of reaction towards me for some time. Yet this...stranger comes along, and you’re infatuated.”, Sherlock states sounding angry and yet hurt. “Are you trying to say that I like him more than you? Isn’t that a bit grade school Sherlock?”, I offer my reasoning. He averts his eyes from me to the lit fireplace. “Maybe you should go live with him, and help him solve cases, John.” he scoffs. “It’s increasingly obvious that you haven’t forgiven me for my actions four years ago. Even though I’ve apologized in every way I can think of. You’re unhappy with out friendship as it stands. Also, as I can see; there is over fifty percent chance you have thought or planned leaving me for good.” he says calmly, refusing to look at me. I have no words, I am silent at these accurate deductions. “So why don’t we rip the band-aid as they say. Just leave John, go be happy elsewhere. I know you’re not here. I’ve lost...you.” he said sounding pathetic as he gets up to continue playing. “I’ve stayed, Sherlock.” I say, but he doesn’t respond. 

“I’ve stayed, because I believe we can fix the damage. Yes, I’m a sentimental idiot”, I point out. He turns dangerously. “If it were fixable, I would think that a year later, there would substantial differences, John. No, you still harbor a deep hatred for me. A hatred that you yourself are afraid of.” He tell me and I’m afraid at his accuracy. “Just leave, John. I lived before you. I’ll live after you, albeit worse off. But there are ways of dealing with that...”, He hints at a new cocaine indulgence. That hint sends me off in a rage I have not known for quite some time. “You know what, Sherlock...fine!!! I’ll fucking leave. And you can rot here all alone...shooting up and killing yourself slowly”, I scream as I storm out of the flat. “John...I’m sorry.”, Sherlock says to himself as he watches John practically sprint down the street out of sight. Sherlock is glad no one is here. No one needs to see his rare tears. He takes the mirror over the fireplace off the wall. A small wall safe is revealed. He enters the combination and pulls the small door open. He pulls out a small wood and ivory box, with its own combination. He looks down at the open box and stares at a black bottle, a tiny baggie, and a syringe. “Can I resist you this time?”, He asks his materials. Mean while John now walking, doesn’t know where he should go. They’ve never fought like this, ever. Nor has Sherlock ever asked to leave in such a manner. “Could this be it? Are we just too broken?”, he asks himself, ducking into an alley. He sits in the narrow dark alleyway. He figures it’s a good place for him to let loose and sob. About five minutes later and white car with black windows pulls up and stops on front of the alley. Nothing happens, no one gets out or calls to him. John stands up and walks to the car. The back window rolls down and John leans down to look in, but its dark inside. “Ahh...Dr. John Watson. Fancy seeing you here.”, Toby Williams announces. “Having a fun evening are we? Or do you always cry in dark alleyways at night?” toby teases John. “Piss off!!!” John says venomously. John starts to walk off quickly. The car turns around and follows John. The other back window rolls down, revealing the man himself. He seems preoccupied with a mobile, but continues, “I didn’t come here to tease you Dr. Watson.”. “Please...call me John.” John offers, astounded at what he’s doing. Toby smiles and asks, “Fancy a drink...Doctor?”. John sighs with relief as he agrees, “Oh...God...Yes”. John climbs in the opposite side and the car drives off to an unknown destination.

**Author's Note:**

> This going to a be a work in progress. This is my attempt at multi-chapter fiction. It's slightly AU, given the OMC. Hopefully this will turn out well. reviews and con-crit is much appreciated. ^_^


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